by Maya Wood
The two men swiveled in surprise. “She speaks!” exclaimed Solomon, slapping his knee in comedic bewilderment. He flashed a grotesque smile and sauntered over to his stool where he pulled out his tobacco pouch. “If you must know,” he said matter-of-factly, “we’re about to strike it rich.”
“Boss,” Duval interjected timidly.
Solomon waved his hand dismissively and placed a pinch of tobacco in the rolling paper. “There’s gold up here.”
Alexis felt sick. Suddenly the fragments were pulling together. She remembered the day they were attacked. She remembered the painted men with war in their eyes. “Let me guess,” she said, imagining the fate that awaited this village. “You’re going to murder to get your gold.”
Solomon held up the white paper, tightly rolled. He watched her as he ran his tongue over its lip and sealed it closed. “Well, you don’t think they’d just hand it to us, do you?”
“Boss,” Duval coughed. His eyes were wide.
“What, Duval?” Solomon spat.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go around talking-”
“What? You think she’s going to get up, walk out of here, and go tell someone?” Solomon swatted at the corpulent man as though he were a fly. “Now,” he continued, his tone dipping soberly. “You wanna tell us what you are doing here?”
Alexis’ lids closed over hot tears. She wanted to forget it all, to push it as far down until she couldn’t even remember her own name. She shook her head.
“Ah, there, there.” Solomon leaned forward and his brow folded over his beady, silver eyes. “You hit a spot of bad luck there in the jungle, is all. You’re in good hands now, isn’t she, Duval?”
Duval’s gaze shifted skeptically between the pair. He couldn’t grasp the game his boss was playing at, but he didn’t like that his attention had strayed from their plan. Duval scratched his chin, shook his head, and retrieved his porridge from the table. He sat uncomfortably in his chair against the wall. As he swallowed a tasteless spoonful of white sludge, he noticed Solomon watched him under an arched brow.
“Why don’t you finish that outside? Then go gather the men. I’ll meet you in an hour on the hillside by the creek.”
Duval’s bearded mouth hung open in disbelief. He tossed the spoon into the bowl and shoved upward from his chair. He slammed the door behind him. The shack was quiet now, and Alexis became intensely aware that she was alone and helpless with this repugnant, murderous man. She squirmed against the wall, her arms numb and bloodless in their binding.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions now. And it’s important you answer them.” Solomon struck a match and lit the cigarette. “I need to know what you’re doing here.”
Alexis leaned into her legs which she folded as close to her chest as possible. It wasn’t defiance that kept her lips sealed, but her spirit’s inability to relive the scope of the last two months. She didn’t believe her soul could contain the wonder, happiness, heartache and bereavement that she had discovered in these hills. Her face swelled as she tried once more to suppress the memories.
“You see,” Solomon said, “I’ve got other matters to tend to. So I can only afford to ask you nicely once more.” He flicked an ash onto the floor, a cold metallic gleam passing over his gaze. “What are you doing here?”
Alexis swallowed hard. “I’m an anthropologist from America. I was conducting research on tribes in the Highlands.” The words split as they left the dry husk of her throat.
Solomon grinned, his small teeth yellowed and corroded from cigarettes and years of neglect. “That’s better.” He ran his fingers through his stringy locks. “An anthropologist, you say? You’ll have to understand my surprise.” He paused to take a drag from his cigarette. “You mean to tell me that it was just you and that man going around these hills to study some tribes?”
Alexis nodded slowly. The pounding in the crown of her head had suddenly returned. “Yes,” she said, praying that he would not see through her lie.
“Just you and the one man. Isn’t that a dangerous errand for a young woman?” Solomon chuckled. “Well, obviously, we can see that it was.” He nodded at her defeated figure, an amused smirk pinching the sallow gauntness of his face. “Who knows you are here?”
“No one.” Alexis shook her head. “I mean, my father and the museum I work for know that I’m in New Guinea. But no one knows that I am here exactly.”
“Who was that man?”
“Lewis,” Alexis breathed, her chin quivering. “Lewis is my guide.”
“And who knows that Lewis was here?”
Alexis flinched. Was. “No one. I mean. I’m sure his family knows he was going out into the Highlands. But our route wasn’t predetermined. We’d been trying to locate a tribe and were only following leads.”
“And where was the last place you found your lead?”
“In a village three days south of here,” Alexis lied.
Solomon nodded and cleared his throat. “You’ll have to pardon my disbelief, but that’s a far-fetched story.” Smoked gushed from his nostrils. Alexis stared lifelessly at the floor. “Then again,” he mused, “any story you tell me to explain what a young American woman is doing alone in New Guinea would sound unbelievable.”
Solomon stubbed out the cigarette on his boot. He positioned himself to face her squarely, and he let his eyes crawl over her. Alexis cringed under the weight of his gaze. She knew that he could have no use for her other than the one evident in the way he looked at her now. With such intense hunger. She knew that once he’d had his fill, she would be snuffed out, and tossed on the jungle floor.
Once more she gagged as a whirlpool of images sucked her into its center. She imagined her father, alone and consumed in sorrow. To have lost the two women of his life in such similar circumstances. To never have answers, though maybe that would be better, she thought. He would never forgive himself. Alexis’ spirit buckled under the crushing sorrow. She thought of Lewis, one of the kindest men she’d had the privilege to know. He lost his life because of her. For this she would never forgive herself.
And then she saw Trevor. She could imagine for a moment that he would never learn what had befallen her or his friend. That he could live happily in his ignorance, go on with his life as he intended the day he rode out of the village. But her heart burst at its seams, and she wished with desperate aching that she could tell him that she loved him. That he was part of her, as her blood and bones, and every cell that made her.
“Hey, over here.” Solomon waved a hand. “You’re not feeling sorry for yourself, are you?” he snickered. “It’s too early for that, yet.” He pulled out a flask from the depths of his pants pocket. He spun the silver cap, tipped his head back and took a long swig. He exhaled loudly with satisfaction and twisted the cap back. “Now,” he said through rotted teeth. “We have to figure out exactly what we’re going to do with you.”
Solomon flung the flask on the table and fell to the ground. His eyes oozed obscenity. He was on top of her now, his spindly legs pushing as he unfolded her from her fetal curl. Alexis convulsed beneath him, opened her mouth to scream, but his palm clamped over her face tight. “Now, now,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you. Can’t you see that?” He licked his lips, smiling with big gums and yellow teeth.
“Anyone ever tell you what a fine woman you are?” Just imagining the contact of his hands against her flesh made her wretch. “Oh, I’m not so bad. You’ll see,” he whispered with whiskied breath as he maneuvered her flat against the floor. She felt his hand pull at her shirt, the brittle-boned fingers squeezing her stomach.
I’d rather die, she told herself without a second thought, and she thrashed against him like a wild animal. She saw the black chasm of his decaying mouth open, and he lowered himself to kiss her. He grunted, gripped by ferocious need.
Alexis kept her mouth closed like a vice. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. Against every impulse, she obeyed, parting her lips. “That’s right,” he hissed profanely and h
is tongue slithered inside her mouth. She sucked at his lip, pulling it between her teeth. She opened her eyes to watch him. He was excited. His lids fluttered with pleasure, and he started to grind against her when she bit down hard. First she heard the crunch. Like an apple. Then she heard his scream. It sounded like fire.
“You fucking bitch!” The words detonated in the shack. Solomon spooled back, his hands clutching his mouth, blood oozing between his knuckles. He grabbed her throat and wound up his fist. It shattered her cheek.
The door swung open. Through bolts of white pain, Alexis saw Duval. She had never felt such relief to see such a horrid human being. “What the fuck do you want?” Solomon boomed.
“Sorry, boss.” Duval sputtered as he took in the terrifying gaze of Solomon’s eyes. “I wouldn’t a come, but there’s a problem with the men.”
“What are you talking about?” Solomon’s voice was still raging at full volume.
“A couple of the men seem to be turning…uh…saying we ought to give them more of our share. I heard some talk of them going without us altogether. You better get down there, boss. This fire needs to be put out right now.” Duval scratched at his beard. He couldn’t manage to conceal his nervousness. Everything they’d planned for months was on a ledge and Solomon had lost it for this woman.
Alexis felt what seemed like all the blood in her body flow against the drums of her ears. She could hardly discern the meaning of the words exchanged between the men. The adrenaline was a thunderous roar in her brain, and it muffled her senses. Was she to fight? Or was she safe? It wasn’t until she saw Solomon kick the chair against the wall that she understood his plans had been thwarted. Alexis dared to breathe.
He swooped in low and growled, spit and blood spattering against her face. “By the time I’m done with you woman, you will wish you’d killed me just then.” Solomon shot for the door, hand over mouth. He fixed her dead in his gaze. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m coming back for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
They had been gone for hours. Alexis watched the light, its color, and the angle at which it filtered through the cracks of the dilapidated structure, and guessed it must be early evening. All morning she had lied in filth and her own tears, letting the tentacles of defeat and self-pity curl around her. She wanted to give up. She knew that the next time Solomon came he would rape her, then snuff her out of existence. Might as well, she thought. But flashes of her life and those she loved so dearly fired cruelly in her brain. She fought them. But she could not stifle the sorrow she felt for her father. Nor could she strangle Trevor, whose presence expanded exponentially in her heart. They nudged her until she felt she owed it to the universe to get out of that room.
Alexis sighed, a reserve of strength and determination compelling her upward. She sat up to examine her situation. The room wasn’t the problem. She needed only to stand and walk a few feet to the door. It was the unknown on the other side of the door. It was the expertly knotted rope around her wrists and ankles. She grimaced at the sight of the angry raw flesh. She could only imagine what the rest of her looked like.
Alexis stretched along the length of the bed linens, coaxing the flow of blood back into her legs and arms. She wriggled them in the rope, but there was no give. From her side, she curled and rolled onto her knees, and summoning all the strength from her depleted body, swept herself up onto her feet. The blood drained from her head and she swayed dangerously, her knees threatening to buckle. Whatever moisture remained in her body burst from her pores, and the bloodied clothing instantly clung to her frame.
Alexis inhaled deeply. Slowly she hopped toward the window. The exertion sapped her and she breathed noisily from her mouth. When she reached the frame, she let herself sag against the wall. Black spots appeared in her vision. Alexis lifted her head and pushed it against a window shutter until it creaked slightly open.
Her spirit plummeted. She saw nothing but an impenetrable wall of green. By all appearances, she was stranded in the thick of the jungle. On the other hand, she wasn’t convinced her chances of escape or help would be better if they were part of a community complicit in the horrific crime underway. Alexis sighed. These parts were totally alien to her. She remembered the men from the jungle. This was their territory. They would find her in an instant. She knew she had to find her horse.
Alexis peered out the window again. She would have to circle the shack to get a better idea of an escape route. I have absolutely nothing to lose, she reminded herself. Hopping inches at a time, Alexis made her way to the door. She pushed at it with her head, and when it gave, saw that it was tethered shut from the outside with a coil of rope. Alexis groaned. She had to find something to cut her binding. She scanned the room. There was nothing but an astonishing lack of clutter for two of the shabbiest, unkempt men she’d ever seen. “There must be a tool shed,” she said aloud as though she had the camaraderie of a partner. She turned to face the room. On every side, light bled through the cracks of the hut. Every side but one. Alexis smiled.
Weighing her chances and the timing, she hopped back to the window. She leaned on the wooden table beneath it, squirming until she had managed to worm her body onto its surface. It shuddered beneath her weight. She thrust her head forward and the shutter swung open wide. Alexis gulped hard and she threw herself over the ledge of the window. The ragged wood of the frame pulled and ripped at her flesh with its splintered teeth.
Alexis gasped when she hit the ground with her shoulder. Her brain pounded black and white. Alexis raised her head, spitting out a mouthful of earth. The air was cooler and moist, and it replenished her lungs which seemed to shrivel in the stagnant, decaying air of the shack. She rolled herself onto her knees and then to her feet.
The jungle was alive with wildlife, but not a whisper of human activity. She could not see more than a few yards past the banana trees which enclosed the perimeter. She hopped to the corner of the shack and peered around the other side. She almost squealed with delight when she glimpsed an ax resting aside the adjoining shed. Panting, she stumbled forward blindly until she reached it and pushed it onto the ground. She lowered herself so that the length of the handle rest firmly between her thighs and buttocks, the head of the ax behind her.
Gingerly she felt at the blade with her fingers and splayed her hands as far as she could manage, grinding the rope against its sharpened edge. Puffing furiously, she let out a cry of relief when she felt the rope give. Her arms hung lifelessly at her sides. She shook her torso, her arms swinging limply until they burst with blood.
Close by a branch rustled in the brush. Alexis snapped her head in its direction. She felt as though she were on a theater stage in a packed auditorium trying to remain unseen. She cleared her throat, grabbed the ax and pulled it from under her. Bleeding sweat, she ground the blade at the ropes on her ankles until they fell open. Her blood pumped maniacally through her veins and she fought the urge to bolt into the web of trees and tall grass. She knew if the timing wasn’t right, she’d kill any chance she had of surviving.
A bundle of twigs snapped. Then another. Alexis’ throat closed, her eyes wide like a doe in the sight of a rifle. She gathered the rope, shot to the window and sailed over the ledge onto the table. It trembled and groaned under her. God please, Alexis begged as she fell clumsily onto the ground. She could hear two voices taking shape as they neared. Furiously she tied the rope around her ankles, and then her wrists behind her back. She buried herself in the putrid bed clothes and faced the wall. She closed her eyes.
The men stood outside the door. “Jesus. Eat something and take a rest, then.” It was Solomon. “We’ll have to go back in an hour to see the men are ready. You get the ammunition ready, and I’ll saddle up the horses.” The door jerked as they untied the rope. Alexis’ pulse exploded in her neck. “Now let’s see how our guest is doing.”
***
The purple haze of dusk filled the clearing. Every blade of grass seemed frozen in place, and the scene eerily resembled a ph
otograph. He had slowly tracked the path of two horses riding north from the village the moment the sun had lit up the sky. Everything added up. The testimonials of the villagers that Lewis and Alexis had left just days before, that they had intended to gather supplies up north before heading west again. They had wanted to know more. Mulmulum had stared gravely at the hut floor as Trevor tried to explain there wasn’t time.
Now he crouched in this clearing and he knew in his bones that the pair had crossed it. Why did he feel such foreboding in this place? Binda snickered and huffed at his neck and he reached his hand back to caress her ear. The grass was still bent ahead, and Trevor followed its trail. Suddenly the fluid path broke and fired into frenzied disarray. Something happened to frighten the horses. Trevor pulled at Binda’s reins and she followed him silently to the edge of the clearing where he could tether her in the cloak of the forest.
He returned to the spot, and squatting low, followed a thinner path of human footprints. The light was fading quickly and panic flushed through his body. Keep it together, he told himself. The first trees of the forest line offered no evidence. He squeezed his eyes, imagining what they would have done in a threatening situation. Trevor spotted a cluster of trees and sprung forward. His heart fell.
Between the trees and under the foliage he saw a pair of familiar boots. Trevor winced and a splintered cry escaped from his mouth. It was Lewis. His body was twisted, his hands grasping the frayed edges of a mortal wound. His shirt was soaked and caked with dark blood. Trevor knew he was gone, but he couldn’t help but lean over his friend and press an ear to his chest. No pulse. “Oh, Lewis,” Trevor’s voice trembled. He rested his hand against his heart. “I’m sorry to leave you now, brother.” Trevor stood slowly and wiped his eyes. “I’ll come back for you.”
Trevor raced to Binda. Whatever had happened, it was by the hand of men, and it had happened two days before. Trevor shuffled through the countless possibilities of Alexis’ fate. There was no sign of struggle other than the dark fate met by his best friend. He prayed that the sight of a beautiful young woman had intrigued her captors enough to keep her alive.